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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111815">You're my prize</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999'>kalika_999</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jack and Brock's misadventures [107]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Affection, Alternate Universe - Rugby, Blow Jobs, HYDRA Husbands, Hand Jobs, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Post-Match, Semi-Public Sex, Sneaking Around</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:55:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Brock has a visitor at the team locker room after they lose their match for first place.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jack and Brock's misadventures [107]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/547894</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You're my prize</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's that time of the year again where the Rugby Sevens come to town, I spend the weekend ogling dudes in tight shorts tackling other dudes in tight shorts and eat way too many cinnamon sugar mini doughnuts..I also think about HH but that's a give in.  Canada came in third, I'm so proud of those nerds.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was something about losing, and losing so badly against a team that should have been a piece of cake to beat. Okay so the All Blacks weren’t a team to be messed with, but they ran through plays and had been constantly on top of them and thought they had it all figured out.  Unfortunately they didn’t and that was a completely new level of bitterness Brock felt. He was trying his hardest to fake a smile for the rest of his teammates, but they were just as disappointed as he was and they just weren’t having his usually motivating speeches of getting their asses in gear. He didn’t really blame them. They were all used to winning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite being used to winning, he was also knowledgeable to know when they were completely outplayed. They’d put up an amazing fight, but someone had to lose and this time it was their moment to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least this wouldn’t knock them too many pegs down off the points list. It was just one setback on the way there. Brock would hold on to that as his teammates quietly changed and headed off to their respective hotels rooms or wherever they wanted to go to cool off. He'd see them tomorrow and they’d be back to their normal selves, ready to break down and figure out where they went wrong and fix it.  Brock still had to take off his gear and change back into his clothes, so he started to do that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door creaked open as he padded his way to the showers and ignored it in favor of getting that top layer of grime off his skin.  The water felt good after the beating they all took and equally handed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you still here when you could be partying?''  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping out from the initial rinse, Brock tilted his head because he wasn’t expecting to hear that voice right <em>then</em>, even if every part of his body always craved to hear it every single second he got the chance to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed and wrapped the towel that he’d haphazardly hung off one of the hooks by the shower entrance loosely around his hips and turned just as the person stepped into view from the corner of his eye, still in his tight black shorts and his All Blacks team jersey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>''I could ask ya the same thing.” Brock shot back without turning around to greet the owner of the voice properly. He extended his hand out to the water, feeling it run against his fingers, a smirk playing at his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>''You’re right, I should be.  I told the guys I was taking a little detour first though.'' The sound of cleats walking along wet tile filled the room, becoming closer and closer. “I saw your jersey tossed on the bench, figured I’d take a chance before I took a peek in the showers.  Since you like calling me creepy about that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Brock turned and looked his way with a smirk. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> creepy, but it’s why I like ya.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just like that I like watching you in the showers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brock felt his face warm, even if it was true, Jack didn’t have to say it. He also didn’t have to show up looking like he didn’t go anywhere else after the game and the press, that he lurked and waited until it was mostly all cleared out.  It amazed Brock every time, that security, or other teammates or even someone from higher up had not seen an opposing member of the team trying to wait it out. He should have stuck out like a sore thumb, not that Brock was complaining. Especially when Jack still had dirt across his jaw, his hair damp and pushed back from sweat and water, begging to be pulled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing was, Brock used to be so stuck inside his head that he didn't bother to check out Jack's reaction to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but that was years ago. Now, he was more than aware, and for some reason, it made everything just that much more appealing. He used to believe that he was the only one eye-fucking Jack under the brightly lit fluorescent lights as he watched him play his heart out, but one day, he caught Jack's eyes traveling down his body with the same expression and dark eyes he knew he had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest was history. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>''I have a match tomorrow when we get back to the US and those bruises ya already left from last night..well they ain’t gone yet.'' Brock announced. He hated that he was already breathless over the implications of Jack dropping in to see him first before celebrating their win. “No rest for losers I gu- “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack doesn’t let him finish and promptly shuts him up by pressing their lips hard against each other. It’s a silent prompt not to put himself down because Jack’s already well versed in Brock taking every loss they get personally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>''Guess I'll just have to take it easy on you then.”' Jack chuckles against his lips clearly feeling pleased with the way Brock already melted underneath his fingertips. He took a step back and started to slowly strip after kicking off his cleats and peeled away at his socks. His jersey was already damp from the water spray and soaking in all the sweat but he still made a show of himself because as much as Jack liked to watch Brock, Brock loved to watch him getting naked. He always did it all agonizingly slow, revealing every inch of skin as if it was a secret slowly spilling out into the open. Unraveling wrist tape, Jack let it all collect in a pile.  When it was time for his jersey, he undid the last button that wasn’t already undone and pulled it over his head while Brock’s eyes swept across his bruise ridden torso.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The excitement of the possibilities that could transpire tonight made Brock reach out to Jack with determined hands, cupping his palm along the back of his sticky neck and returning back to the kiss that had been so rudely broken off. It wasn’t like there was more to say as sloppy kisses turned soon into open mouthed pants against each other while their eager hands tried their best to reach every single part of their bodies with the little time they most likely had together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For all the time that they’d been doing this, Brock had come to realize that Jack was a very focused and devoted kisser. Even if there was only a window of two minutes in which they could stand there in the locker room, under the guise of just saying hi since everyone knew they were ex-teammates, he made sure to leave Brock feeling like he was seconds from losing his mind. Whether it was with his lips or with his hands, it hardly mattered as he shared an equal amount of skill in both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tonight, Jack decided in all his wisdom that he’d set a slow pace between them. He took his time to taste every part of Brock's mouth, especially his tongue, and to touch every inch of his shivering, but overheated skin. The shower he had planned to take became completely ignored because Brock was pretty sure that he was more sweaty now than he was after the team’s loss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was moments like this Brock cherished the most. When Jack could read him, knew if he really needed something at a certain specific speed from just how his day or his mood went. They were lucky to learn from one another from before, but now it was sometimes hard to actually run into each other and lucky when they could.  Long distance really was a difficult hurdle, being apart by continents and oceans, but moments like this made them worth while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He focused on Jack's hands that were once at his waist but had now dropped down to his hips, thumbing on the plush material of the towel. Jack used it to his advantage and brought Brock's body even closer to his, making their bodies glide teasingly against each other. Brock didn't want to let go of Jack's lips, but the need to taste his skin overtook him, so he held off in order to attach his own slick lips against Jack's skin. He shoved his nose into the crook between Jack’s neck and collarbone, taking in a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I haven’t showered yet.” Jack murmured low.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You smell amazing,” Brock said, dismissing the comment, sliding his fingers all along his boyfriend’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>''Fuck,'' Jack grunted out as Brock sucked a bit too hard. There was undoubtedly a mark that was only going to get darker with every lick, suck and kiss that he pressed in, but Brock could hardly bother to care since Jack never indicated that he did. Furthermore, there was nothing hotter than dark purple hickies decorating his skin while he was out there playing, so very clear what they were in comparison to the other bruises he’d receive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as Brock assumed that maybe this time he’d have the advantage and take lead, Jack pushed him back against the cool tiled wall. “Easy there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rested a hand to his chest, the other pulling Brock’s towel loose and letting it drop down to the wet floor. Jack's eyes soaked in Brock there in all his glory. ''God, I want you so badly.  You know how hard it was to be so close to you during that last match and not keep you pinned down?'' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>''Please.'' Brock begged, it’d been too long and while last night they had a lot of fun, he needed more of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>''You have a match tomorrow.'' Jack playfully reminded him, as if his eyes didn't give away the completely unadulterated desire he was currently feeling for him. “I’m coming to visit by the way.  The team has a day delay before we fly back home and meet the crowd. If you win that one, I'm gonna reward you by fucking you so hard you won't be able to walk for a whole damn week.'' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brock shakes his head, throwing all his pride aside, and puts his hands on Jack's chin in order to bring his eyes back to his.  ''Are ya jus gonna leave me feelin’ like this all night then? Do ya really want me to feel shitty from the loss and jerk off all alone in my hotel room while thinkin’ of ya when you could have me right ‘ere and do us both a favor?'' He knows he's rambling and that his eyes are sporting that look of desperate hunger he’d seen himself get when he needed his point to come across.    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>''Who said I'm going to leave you like this?'' Jack raised an eyebrow. He dropped down on his knees against the towel pooled at their feet before Brock could even clear himself of his fogginess to think about a response. Slowly his boyfriend blinked up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t get over how pretty you are, you know that?” Jack crooned, voice thick with lust before he wrapped his lips around the tip of his dick.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brock craved the need to be praised and yet even though Jack constantly did, it was always like the first time. He scrambled to say something back, wanted to so much and yet he couldn’t, a groan crawling up his throat the moment Jack hollowed out his cheeks around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack was taking liberties unraveling Brock piece by piece, he knew he was. Sometimes he sucked hard, other times he resorted to barely noticeable, delicate kitten licks. They affect Brock the exact same way by making him lose every ounce of self control he had left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brock wasn’t sure what he was allowed to do with his hands, reaching out but hesitating and warring on gliding his fingers through the mess that was Jack’s hair petting it lovingly, or if he wanted to pull at it just so he had a way to ground himself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As always with them together, Jack could sense his dilemma without even looking up and soon his hands came over his, guiding them into his hair and showing him to curl around strands but to keep them loose.  It set him up to pull at a pressure not too hard and yet still satisfyingly pleasant for them both; while it was Jack that told him what to do, Brock following through and listening still made his boyfriend groan loudly around his dick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It barely took one or two heavy drags of Jack’s tongue across the sensitive head while humming appreciatively like he wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span> there that got Brock cumming hard embarrassingly fast.  He couldn’t be bothered to care though if Jack wanted to make a joke over it, he’d been wound up tighter than a drum for the whole day and the only way he was going to come loose was with him anyway.  It was just a fact of life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>''There he is.'' Jack murmured when Brock's eyes could focus somewhat properly before him again. ''You disappeared for a second there.'' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>''Shuddap.'' Brock huffed and brought him in a lazy kiss. He could taste himself a little but mainly it was Jack he got, what he was looking for.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack's compression shorts barely restrained the hard line of his cock as it dug into Brock’s hip. Every shift of their bodies caused Jack to make a small noise that he tried to swallow down.  If they were spending time together on any other day he might have dragged it on and teased Jack a bit but because he was here, trying to ease the loss of a win, he wanted Jack to feel good too.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While they were busy kissing, Brock slid a hand down taut abs and slipped under the two layers and loosely wrapped a fist around him, his other hand tugging down at the restrictive protective gear under his shorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t jus fuckin’ take yerself outta yer gear and come in nothin’ but sweats and no underwear, could ya?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack tried to laugh but it only came out in a moan as he said let out his name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brock grinned, palm sliding along Jack’s hip before cupping at his bare ass while he jerked him off hard and steady, wanting to get him to cum quick so they could bask in their afterglows together, precum and water spray making it easy enough to work with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lewd sounds of Jack panting and groaning echoed throughout the locker room and Brock was sure someone was two seconds from walking in on them before they’d even realize they had company.  Not that he would admit it to anyone, even if he was sure Jack knew, he kind of liked the thought of being caught together having sex in the locker room area. There’d been some close calls, even when they’d steal kisses, but as far as he knew, they were pretty careful.  Still..it was a curious thought that always came up, especially with Jack’s mouth partially hung open, his shorts around his thighs as he got jerked off and had Brock naked and pinned up against a shower wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brock missed kissing him though, tilting his head up to press one at the corner of Jack’s mouth before planting another to Jack’s neck, just below his earlobe.  He licked off the sweat there despite knowing it was probably disgusting, but Jack was just so hot, he couldn’t even be bothered to give a fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Getting close.” Jack warned, a hand fisting into Brock’s hair to bring him to his lips.  It wasn’t even a kiss, more that they simply breathed in each other before Jack tensed and pressed painfully close to Brock’s frame as he came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately after, Brock leaned to the wall, gingerly guiding Jack back a tiny fraction just to look at how ruined he looked just then. His cheeks were flushed, as was most of his torso, a bead of sweat trickling down from his hairline near his facial scar as he stared back with half lidded eyes.  He was gorgeous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop looking at me like that.” Jack finally let out, trying to hide a smile. “I need a shower.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t help admirin’ fine art, sweetheart.” He told him, grinning wider when Jack snorted.  Brock watched him strip out of his shorts and compression gear before stepping under the rush of warm water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let his eyes linger over Jack’s body for a long moment despite the sticky sensation of Jack’s cum going down his leg, he just needed to soak it in and continued to until Jack opened an eye under the spray and tugged him in against his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit being a creeper.  That’s my job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it is.  Ya headed to a party after this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack pressed his forehead to his. “Nah, I wanna take you out tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brock maybe felt himself soften just a little more pressing a kiss to his mouth. “Yer team earned it, especially you.  Should let off some steam.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just did, and they won’t miss me.  You’re worth more than the win.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barking out a laugh, Brock couldn’t help shaking his head fondly. “Corny fuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breaking out in a grin, Jack nuzzled his nose. “Did it work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know it did, asshole.” Brock brought his arms up and draped them around Jack’s neck, continuing their kiss as hands came to his waist and he was pulled in closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shower more or less in silence and dress quickly, though Jack had to bag his wet clothes and steal some from one of Brock’s teammates. Taking Brock’s hand to press a kiss to his knuckles because he was a sap, Jack checked if the coast was clear and gave Brock a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll meet you at the car in about five minutes, I just have to get my bag.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brock nodded, letting his eyes linger on the doors not able to help it when he smiled a little more.  Maybe they did lose today but at least he knew Jack was always going to be there to make things better. </span>
</p>
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